


Ghost Girls

by crazykookie, redhairvacantexpressions



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:13:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazykookie/pseuds/crazykookie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhairvacantexpressions/pseuds/redhairvacantexpressions
Summary: A peculiar ghost enters Erin's life.Holtzman realizes what another type of love feels like.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For all my ghost girls out there.

When the ghost fell in front of Erin, onto the floor of her high-ceiling apartment in the ancient firehouse of Manhattan's safest district, she thought this must be a joke.

Ghosts don't just fall onto the floor; they have much more control over their movement. She had seen ghosts floating, swooping, and diving towards the ground, but a lack of direction was unheard of.

So it was with a chill running up her spine that she peered down onto the ghost body lying on the cement. _Too bad it wasn't on the Swedish rug_ she spontaneously thought, because it must have hurt to fall on cement. But then Erin remembered that ghosts didn't register impact, because their bodies weren't stopped by solid matter.

Diametrically, this ghost had been stopped by the floor.

The best option was to call the rest of the Ghostbusters or at least grab her proton pack from Holtzman's lab, but she didn't do either. Instead she crouched down, fascination overtaking her logic.

The form was blue and diaphanous (like most ghosts, so no surprise there,) but the face-- the face was something new. Erin almost flinched and pulled away. But her intrigue glued her there. She was captivated by the face of the ghost, which was more human than she had ever seen.

The skin between the ghost's eyes was slightly lined, like facial expressions had carved them there. The lashes were thick and looked corporeal. There was a flush on her cheeks; purple on her blue skin, and there was slight yet perceptible breathing.

Erin couldn't speak for a moment, because her throat was dry as parchment. And there wasn't breath in her lungs. She breathed in, smelling vanilla scent, and then spoke.

"Hello?" she asked. It was a mere whisper, not what she had intended. But after the fact, it seemed appropriate. The breath that moved past her lips felt warmer than usual. She had never been this close to a ghost, she mused, afterall. The typical absence of body heat was there even when her skin seemed so real.

"May I help you?" she whispered. "Are you hurt?" The woman-- the ghost, didn't stir. Erin looked around her. If one of her friends were around, she could ask for advice. As it was, the choice was hers. So she acted according to her impulses. She reached out and softly touched the ghost's shoulder. 

The ghost was surprisingly solid, too.

Erin put her whole hand on the ghost, and shook her lightly. "Please, Miss," she said. The high-necked gown and curled hair inspired the title. "Wake up. Are you okay?"

Then all remaining heat was sucked out of the room, and the ghost opened her eyes.

Erin had thought that she would be ready for an awakening, but when it actually occurred she realized she had not been. She shot back, fingers instinctually in fists. 

The ghost sat up slowly, using her hands to elevate herself to a sitting position. 

She looked at Erin, and cocked her head, and Erin wondered if she knew English. Then, she spoke. "Who are you?" she asked.

Erin's eyes went wide. Ectoplasm and smoke, but not speech. A ghost had never displayed speech.

At Erin's lack of response, the ghost spoke again. "Do you understand English? I don't expect it of every person in the country, of course." She smiled kindly at Erin, folding her legs under her body and placing her gloved hands neatly in her lap.

Erin forced her voice. "No, I-- I speak English. I totally speak English. I just can't believe you're talking... to me." Erin felt herself babbling.

"Would you like some water, dear?" the ghost then asked. "You look a little pallid. And you're perspiring."

"Um, no I'm fine." Erin said. "Thank you very much," she added to be cordial.. "Also, you're in my house. Who are you? Where did you come from? You just... fell on the floor. Oh god, are you okay?"

The ghost looked down at herself, and brushed off her dress, but Erin believed it was with compunction. "I'm quite alright. But," and she paused, looking around her. "I'm a bit confused." She furrowed her brow, and looked back to Erin.

"You're in New York City," Erin answered. "Southwest side. North Moore and Broadway."

"Oh, that's delightful," the ghost smiled. "That's not far from where I live."

"Do you know... _when_ you are?" Erin asked, sorrow dropping in her stomach. She grimaced in anticipation of the ghost's reception.

"When?" she asked joyfully. "Oh. Have I been asleep for long?"

Erin braced herself. "I think for a while, yes. It's 2016."

The ghost blinked. She didn't speak, blinked again. Then she said, "When I went to sleep it was 1916."

She stared into Erin's eyes. Erin didn't dare look away from her. Erin instinctually knew that abandonment wasn't what this poor ghost-- no, this poor woman needed right now.

She decided to change the subject. This one was worse, but it needed to be raised. Erin lifted her eyebrows in what she intended to be a lighthearted way. "Do you know... _what_ you are?"

The woman's eyes went wide immediately. "What?" she asked. Erin reached out with her hand, to comfort her somehow. "What do you mean?" the woman persisted.

"Well you're a--" Erin looked into her eyes. She was shocked to see that the irises were eerily real. They were comforting, actually. Unprecedented, they were deep brown. Erin felt understanding, empathy.

Something else.

"I'm so sorry, but you're a ghost."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter, y'all. I am new to writing Ghostbusters fic. I am very new to writing for something I love! This is a pretty weird premise, written because of 750words.com, so I'm sort of going to just go with it.


End file.
